


Hannah (Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell)

by mayseriouslyunusual



Series: These were three housemaids who were particular favourites of Childermass [3]
Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Gen, In case you were wondering, Matthew is a footman who's mentioned in passing in the book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 04:04:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4420619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayseriouslyunusual/pseuds/mayseriouslyunusual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannah expected to die on the streets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hannah (Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell)

**Author's Note:**

> In chapter 63, 'The first shall bury his heart in a dark wood beneath the snow, yet still feel it's ache.' The following is said:
> 
> "Lucas, tell Lucy, Hannah, and Dido that I said goodbye and wished them well - and good, obedient husbands when they want them." (These were three housemaids who were particular favourites of Childermass).
> 
> I wondered why Childermass, who does not form human connection easily, should care so much for these girls. This is Hannah's story.
> 
> As a side, some of the ideas in this fic were inspired by two wonderful headcanon posts on tumblr, they're both really good, so if you want to check them out, the web addresses are:
> 
> http://wolfinthethorns.tumblr.com/post/124903734391/sort-of-based-on-things-puttering-around-my-head
> 
> and:
> 
> http://fourteenpavanes.tumblr.com/post/124414625382/headcanons-john-childermass

Hunger stabbed at Hannah’s stomach, but she ignored it. She had gone longer than three days without food before, so there was no need to be worried yet. Ordinarily, she would have just taken something from a market stall, but the road to York had been bare of such things, and today was Sunday, so there was no market. She would have to steal some money, and buy something to eat.

She walked on for a while, to find a more populated area where she could blend into the crowd. She came to a busier street, and smiled; this would be a good place. She scanned the crowd for a moment, to pick out a target, and her eyes came to rest on a man, perhaps in his twenties, standing about thirty yards down the street. A bookish sort of person; he had ink staining his hands, and was carrying a pile of books under one arm. More importantly, he was wearing a long coat with several deep pockets, which did not button but rather closed with flaps.

Hannah walked up behind the man and reached into his pocket. Her fingers found a few coins and began to draw them out-

A hand closed around her wrist, trapping her effectively.

“Sloppy, girl,” the man said, “you just want to use your thumb and forefinger for that.”

Hannah looked up into his face, and realised that he was not bookish at all; he had the sharp cunning about him of one whose intelligence was not the sort developed by reading. Hannah felt a range of emotions, despair, resignation, and most of all indignation. She had never been caught before, and it was most frustrating that she should be now.

“What’s your name, lass?” the man asked.

“Hannah,” she answered. There was no point in lying now. She was sure to be taken before the magistrate, her fate was sealed.

“Well, Hannah,” said the man, “I don’t think much of your training. Which gang do you belong to?”

“Bruiser Tom’s.” Not that there was anything left of it, apart from her, and now even she was to be wiped out.

“Haven’t heard of that one. I’ve been out of the game too long, it appears. Where are the rest of them? You really shouldn’t be doing this alone.”

Hannah felt a glimmer of hope. If this man was a former pickpocket, perhaps he could see his way to letting her go?

“They’re hanged, or in prison. I’m the only one that’s left,” she answered. The man winced.

“Oh, I’m sorry, lass.” The man appeared to struggle with himself for moment, then he said, “Come with me and I’ll get you a bite to eat. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Hannah was wary, but surprisingly the man seemed trustworthy, and she was so _very_ hungry. She nodded.

 

The stew was good. It was thick, hot, and had big chunks of meat and vegetables. Hannah ate quickly, one mouthful going in before the previous one had quite been swallowed. It was gone all too quickly. She wiped the inside of her bowl with a piece of bread, careful not to miss any of the juice. Then she looked across the table at the man.

“Can I have something else?” she asked. Now that she had eaten something, her locked-down appetite had reawakened, and she was voraciously hungry. The man gave a snort of amusement, then called for a pie.

The pie, when it was brought, had a thick, golden crust, and there was steam rising from it. It smelled mouth-wateringly good. Hannah reached for it, but the man held it back with a finger on the plate.

“Let me talk first, then you can have it.”

Hannah gave a small sound of protest, but folded her arms and sat back, ready to listen.

“How old are you, Hannah?” the man asked.

“Four years and ten, or thereabouts,” she answered.

“Hmm,” the man muttered to himself, “a bit young perhaps, but then we’ve had no great number of applicants.” He raised his voice again, and said, “Would you like a position? The scullery maid at my master’s house has recently left, and we have an opening.”

Hannah hesitated a moment, she did not feel that she would be a good maid. But then, her life at the moment was precarious, and there would be a bed and food if she accepted. She could always leave of she didn’t like it.

“But I have no experience. I do not even have my letters.”

He shrugged, as if it was of no consequence. “That, I can teach, if you are willing to learn.”

“Then, yes, mister,” she said. The man nodded, as if that had been the answer he was expecting.

“My name is Childermass. Welcome to service, Hannah.”

“Can I have the pie now?” she asked. Mr Childermass smiled, and pushed it towards her, and she fell upon it, hungrily.

“Oh, and one more thing,” said Mr Childermass, as he watched her eat, “you’ll have to start calling people ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’. It can be grating at first, but you’ll get used to it, never fear.”

 

_Twelve years later..._

 

“Oh, Dido, that’s not how you arrange a tea tray at all!” Hannah exclaimed, “Watch me.” She switched around the items on the tray, until they no longer looked as if they had just been dropped onto it. Given as it was Dido’s work, they probably had been. “There, you see?” Hannah said. “It’s got to be neat!”

“Don’t see what was wrong with it before,” Dido said, sulkily. Hannah sighed exasperatedly.

“Is that tray ready?” said Mr Childermass, walking in, “Norrell’s getting impatient.”

“Yes, sir,” said Hannah, tucking a strand of hair back into her cap. “We just had a few difficulties.” Hannah shot a glare at Dido, who handed Mr Childermass the tray. He took it, and disappeared back upstairs.

“Right,” Hannah said to Dido, getting out another tray, “we’re going to practice this until you get it right. Watch. Cloth first…”

 

That evening, as Hannah passed Mr Childermass on the corridor, she noticed he was in a somewhat disordered state. She stopped him by grabbing his sleeve.

“Sir, you’ve not been looking after yourself,” she said.

Mr Childermass mumbled something about Mr Norrell needing help with a difficult spell.

“When was the last time you ate?”

Mr Childermass hesitated. “Yesterday…? No. The day before.”

Hannah sighed. “You’ll go and get something then.” She looked him up and down. “Right after I’ve tied your neck cloth properly.” She reached up to do so, and Mr Childermass submitted grudgingly.

“Hannah,” he said, as she worked on the knot, “are you happy here?” He paused a moment, “I mean to say, you do not have any regrets…?”

Hannah finished tying the knot, then smoothed the front of his waistcoat and stepped back. She smiled. “None, sir.”

“Good.” he replied, “And, uh, how go things with Matthew?”

“Well, sir,” she said, smiling again.

“Ah, I’m happy for you,” he replied, and then, with uncharacteristic awkwardness, “You’ve grown into a fine woman, Hannah.” With that, he walked off quickly, giving her no chance to reply.

“I marvel,” said Matthew, who was just rounding the corner, “he won’t let anyone treat him like that ‘cept you, not even Mr Lucas. He respects the rest of us, of course; but he sees you as an equal. However do you manage it?”

Hannah smiled. “I suppose we understand each other, as much as is possible anyway. We’ve come from similar places.”

“Ah yes, you lot from the East Riding are a bit odd,” he said, then cried out in mock pain as she fetched him a swot on the head.

“Get back to work you great lummox!” she said, laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this is a bit late in coming! I had one idea, and then decided I hated it, then didn't have any ideas for ages, and then... well, you know how it is.
> 
> Hope you liked it! Feedback is always appreciated!


End file.
